Change of Plans: Part 2
by Mrs.Curtis11
Summary: What is Olivet going to do now? Sequel to Change of Plans. Highly recommended that you read that first.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! Just a reminder that the story is set in modern times. So here is the first chapter of Part 2…**

Why was there a T.V.? I didn't have a T.V. in my room. Had I fallen asleep watching T.V. in Mom's room? Maybe it was a Friday night and I'd been so tired from a hard week of school that I just couldn't make it through "Fashion Police."

But the T.V. was off, and sunlight was spilling into through the white curtains.

I heard Mom's voice.

"Did you see that? Did she just open her eyes?"

My vision encompassed the room to find Mom and all three Curtis brothers in chairs nearby. Darry and Soda's faces were thickly coated with stubble. Why hadn't they been shaving?

Then I remembered everything. Johnny dying, me sleeping with Dally, trying to kill myself…. Crap, they were going to be mad.

"Livvy?" Mom stepped closer to me.

"Hey, Mom."

Clapping a hand over her mouth, Mom pushed back my hair, which was overgrown and wild, out of my face.

Then the relief faded.

"Olivet April Waters! What were you thinking?! You could've died! I can't…"

Mom was literally speechless.

"Anne, can I talk to your daughter alone for a minute?" Darry asked.

"Okay," Mom said, taking deep breaths, trying to calm herself.

She turned to Soda and Ponyboy, putting a comforting arm around each of their shoulders. "Let's go to the cafeteria. We should actually be able to eat now."

Then to me, "This conversation isn't over."

Darry watched the door close.

"Alright Olivet, let's get a few things straight," he began.

_This_ was going to be fun.

"_Trying to kill yourself because you lost your boyfriend?_ I know you're stronger than that, Livvy. You're incredibly lucky that they were able to remove the bullet before it could get to your heart."

I sighed. "He wasn't just my boyfriend Darry. He was my favorite person on earth. You know I don't get attached to people very easily."

"Are you listening to yourself right now kiddo? You aren't even getting close to reaching a valid argument for suicide," Darry said disbelievingly.

"Easy for you to say. You've never been in love."

"I am now. And if Rashida died I wouldn't shoot myself," Darry said logically.

They'd gotten that serious? Rashida had never told me…

…but I had never asked. I'd been too absorbed in Johnny, and too absorbed in myself. I hadn't even bothered to really talk to Rashida in weeks. We'd barely even celebrated together when she and Darry had gotten together…

"You know who you're acting like right now?" Darry asked.

"Who," I said dully, knowing he would tell me whether I wanted to hear it or not.

"Bella from the _Twilight _books."

I was too incredulous to speak for a moment.

"No, I'm not!" I finally exclaimed.

"Remember when Edward leaves her and she just stops her life, and then starts purposely putting herself in danger?"

"Darry," I started slowly. "When did you watch _New Moon_?"

Darry blushed, suddenly embarrassed.

"Soda made me," he said defensively. "The point is, don't be Bella. You're not Bella. You're Olivet fucking Waters. Start acting like it. Do you know none of us slept _at all _while you were unconscious? You're so beat up about Johnny dying; do you think it didn't affect us? Were you trying to put us all through that again? Your father, brother, sister-in-law, nephew, sister, brother-in-law, and niece, not to mention Two-Bit and Steve are out there waiting, worrying their heads off. You're acting like Johnny was the only person who loved you. That's selfish, and guess what, it's not true, though I don't really know why at this point. It's not like you deserve any of us."

Darry continued. "Your favorite person may be dead, but you still have people who you love and who love you. It's an insult to Johnny dying that you tried to kill yourself. You have life. You get to breathe in and out every day. That's all you have to do. Do it."

I felt like an asshole. I _was_ an asshole. Who was I to dump life?

"I'm going to kick breathing in and out's ass," I announced decidedly.

"_That's_ my girl," Darry said proudly, beaming at me. "I'm sure your parents are going to make you go to a therapist, but you know there's always someone else you can talk to about your problems, don't you?"

"Yep. Sodapop," I answered.

"Correct. That crap lights up his life. I'm going to go now so all the people you still have left can see you. I love you," Darry said.

"I love you too, Darry. Thanks."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Sorry for the long stretch between updates, but as I said I'm trying not to rush. It drives me crazy because I want to give my wonderful readers more of my story, but hopefully this way it will be better and you'll enjoy it more. The story picks up two years later. Nothing happens in this chapter, but it goes over where everyone is in life after two years. **

"_There are many Beths in the world, shy and quiet, sitting in corners till needed, and living for others so cheerfully that no one sees the sacrifices till the little cricket on the hearth stops chirping, and the sweet, sunshiny presence vanishes, leaving silence and shadow behind" (Alcott 48)._

_**-**_Excerpt from "Little Women"

**Two Years Later. Olivet's POV**

My hair's finally starting to grow back. I cut it awhile ago, a few days after I got out of the hospital. A boy's cut; as short as Darry's. It was all donated to "Locks of Love," (an organization that makes wigs for children suffering from any disease causing hair loss). It's not quite the fiery mane it used to be, with curls that cascaded down to nearly my ass. It reaches almost to my shoulders now though.

I don't really date anymore. Neither do Cherry or Soda. Cherry gained admittance to the Lonely Hearts Club when Bob was killed in a drunk-driving accident the day after Johnny died. Cherry said that it had been coming to him, and she was going to break up with him anyway because he wouldn't quit drinking. He'd treated her terribly whenever he got drunk, he'd treated everyone terribly. But she'd loved him. And two years later, she still didn't feel through with him. Although I'd never liked Bob, I understood. We'd both experienced the same kind of loss, even if my boyfriend had been too good for me, while Cherry had been too good for hers.

Soda and Cherry handle it better than me. By "it" I mean putting on a smile, changing out of pajamas, shaving their legs (Only Cherry, not Soda. I think. I sincerely hope, at least.) I guess you could have ascertained that from my trying to kill myself. Sorry your storyteller is such a basket case. I know you'd probably rather be inside of Soda's head. I honestly would too. It's probably all shiny and happy and smells like cupcakes.

I'm newly out of therapy. The therapists (Yes, therapist_s._ Basket case, I'm telling you.) are going on a trial period and want to check back with me in three months. The first year after Johnny died, I went every day, five days a week. This year, the number has slowly gone down to four, three, two, one… lift off. Look out, world.

My therapist was pretty great, so I guess it paid off. By that I mean I shave my legs again. Sometimes. And, you know, I can handle school, and eating, and breathing in and out. If you've lost your favorite person, and you're doing those things right now, you rock. Go reward yourself with a Patrick Swayze movie. (You might not be in high school, like me, if you're an adult, unless you're returning for credit. Just please don't tell me you're that gross twenty-eight year old with a beard sleeping in a puddle of your own drool puddle in the biology class you've been failing for fourteen years. I know I shouldn't get to dole out advice at this point, but you're embarrassing yourself and everyone around you, man.)

Anyway, give yourself twenty points for not trying to kill yourself when you lost your person. And if you did try to kill yourself, hello again, we probably met in group therapy.

Darry's now a sophomore in college. University of San Francisco. By some miracle, even after all of Johnny's medical bills, my parents managed to pay for tuition, and it was his twenty-first birthday present. He's still able to work part time at his house roofing job, and comes home every night to Soda and Ponyboy.

Dally's dead. We discovered by a call from the police that a few days after Johnny died, Dal's body had been found on the side of the road, a stab wound in his leg. He'd been holding a knife. It didn't really surprise any of us; he'd gone missing for days, and Johnny's death had been the last straw for him. Johnny had been his last reason to live.

Two-Bit and Steve are pretty much the same, at least on the surface. They never really learned how to process this stuff.

Ponyboy's withdrawn, leaving the world that is bitterly void of his best friend for one deep inside his own mind. He retreats, Soda and Cherry being the only ones ever able to get any thoughts about his feelings out of him.

Soda and I have grown even closer, but the real surprise is the relationship that Cherry and I have formed. I used to find Cherry snobby, I didn't like the way that she hid her friendship with the guys from all her affluent friends and her parents, but she's… stopped doing that. Now she stands up to her parents and, eventually, after having to hide out at my place for a few weeks, they realized that Cherry wasn't going to change her mind. She had chosen her friends. Rashida, (who is still in love with Darry and that muscular butt of his, if you were wondering) Cherry, and I, have become as close as sisters, but it is the bond between Cherry and I over our dead boyfriends that's unbreakable and kicks the ass of those sisters whose pants apparently travel.

Soda's still working in the DX. Girls are as flirty as ever to him, but as I said, he's getting the same amount of action as Cherry and I are, which is to say less than a nun with a unibrow.

I don't buy it for one minute that he's happy working with cars. But he refuses to admit it, even to himself. Being the classic caretaker type, he doesn't value himself, and sacrifices any chances he has to make himself truly happy and do what he wants, because he constantly puts Darry and Ponyboy's needs before his own. I swear, Ponyboy will be thirty-five, and Soda thirty-seven, and Soda will be trying to go over to his house and wipe his nose for him.

Living in the absence of the people we believed were the loves of our lives, (name for crappy reality show, anyone?) Cherry, Soda, and I live together in a metaphorical island of misfit toys.

Hurry the fuck up, Rudolph.


End file.
